


no love, no glory (no hero in his skies)

by rredhoods



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Green Lantern (Comics), Green Lantern - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Lost Love, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2018-10-13 18:52:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10519731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rredhoods/pseuds/rredhoods
Summary: Snapshots of a life shared, a friend lost, and a love found.





	1. a life shared

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stephaniebrown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephaniebrown/gifts).



Jason Todd and Kyle Rayner had been a pair since before Bruce Wayne, before Robin, before a ring took Kyle into the stars. Before death, heartache, realizations, and anger. 

It starts on a rainy day in Gotham, deep in the dirtiest parts of the city’s underside.

A small, dark-haired child bolts across the streets, clothes getting progressively wetter as he splashed through the puddles of muddy water.

Behind him, people yelled, laughing hysterically at his panic. Kyle stifles a sob, and keeps running, a few dollar bills crumpled up in his fist. He knew it was a mistake, pulling out the money right in front of those kids, but he was going to pay for a hotdog! The vendor didn’t even bat an eyelash as the much larger kids started chasing his wiry frame down the street. 

That was five minutes ago, and admittedly, he’s starting to get tired. The foster house is still a few blocks down, but the kids are gaining on him and he’s running out of energy.

Kyle rounds a corner blindly, and slams into a body; another kid, just like him. Panic overtakes his senses, and he flails wildly, trying to flee.

“Can ya fucking relax?” His assailant groans, easily pushing Kyle aside and standing. Kyle finds himself looking up at the boy, blinking rapidly.

The newcomer has dark-hair, not unlike his own, and a pair of startlingly blue eyes peer down at him with annoyance. He’s dressed in dirty-smudged jeans and a ratty t-shirt. He looks taller than Kyle, by a few inches at least, as he stands and eyes the kid warily. 

“You’re…you’re not with them?” Kyle asks, shoving the money back into his pockets. In the distance, the sound of angry kids gets louder and louder, and Kyle cowers further into the alley. He knew if he didn’t get back…nobody would come looking.

Someone appears in the mouth of the alley suddenly, and to his utmost horror Kyle realizes it’s one of the kids who had been chasing him. The brunette locks eyes with Kyle, but before he can yell out to his friends, the newcomer decks him.

The boy falls to the ground, unconscious. 

The dark-haired boy stares for a second, eyebrows furrowed, before glancing out of the mouth of the alley and pushing Kyle further into darkness.

“I dunno what you did to get Rodney on your ass, but c’mon, Scrawny.”

“Hey!” Kyle barks indignantly, even as he followed his newfound saviour through the winding streets. It’s disorienting, but Kyle can find his way back to the foster house. “My name is Kyle, not Scrawny.”

“Well, _scrawny_ is why Rodney decided to pick on you,” his saviour spits back, not forgetting to roll his eyes. Kyle’s sure that he enjoys theatrics and being overdramatic. “You’re lucky you ran into me and not some other jerk; there’s a lot of those ‘round these parts of Gotham.”

“Uh…I didn’t catch your name.”

“The name’s Jason. Jason Todd. Where do you even live, kid?”

“Oh. It’s nice to meet you. Um, well…I live at Ma Gunn’s School.” 

Jason glances down at him as his brows furrow. “The hell is a kid like you doing at Gunn’s place?”

“The other foster care houses were over-populated,” Kyle explains, voice strained. “It’s not…it’s not that bad—”

“You can’t lie to a master liar,” Jason muses, after processing the words. “It fucking sucks doesn’t it?”

“…Yeah. It does.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason speaks genuinely, even as they hurry through the streets. It’s getting darker and darker, the rain picking up in speed. A bolt of fear shoots through Kyle, but he trusts Jason to know what he’s doing, where he’s going, because Kyle has no clue where they were. He had only been shipped off to Gotham a few weeks prior, and knows little of the dirty neighbourhood.

He misses his mother. 

Tall, abandoned warehouses loom around them as they slow, broken glass and debris littered everywhere. Jason walks on confidently, but the ghostly streets rattle Kyle to the bones. The winds whistled a haunting tune that raised goosebumps, and fear struck deep in Kyle’s heart.   

“Relax, Kyle,” Jason sounds kind, or as kind as a street-wise child can. He reaches out and grabs Kyle’s much smaller hand, clammy flesh meeting a calloused palm. It’s a comforting weight. “Do I look like the type of dick who’d let a scrawny brat like you get hurt?”

A warmth spreads through the younger boy that he can’t explain, but the sentiment in Jason’s words and Kyle’s emotions are clear. Kyle’s heart inflates with equal amounts of gratitude and trust, the sparking ignition of a newfound bond forming between the duo. 

Kyle smiles.

Soon, the streets turn into more familiar scenery; Jason cuts through a few more alleys, and then they’re walking up the street to Ma Gunn’s. A total of thirty minutes had passed in total, leaving the skies to darken in response to the approaching nightfall.

Jason’s talking animatedly about cars, an obvious passion, and Kyle hangs on to every word. It’s clear the older boy has an affinity for auto mechanics, and uses words Kyle can barely understand. Then the topic switches to books, much more of a comfort zone, and Kyle finds himself rattling off a list of his favourites. Jason nods along to every title and author, promising to look them up at the library whenever he had time next. There is something achingly beautiful about the blooming friendship between the duo, a storm-kissed mess of shared circumstances.

Kyle can’t explain it, but Jason already held importance in his heart in a way that he can’t explain even if he wanted to.

They walk up the short flight of stairs, Jason still holding Kyle’s hand. Their joined hands still act as an anchoring warmth of sorts, the cold night seeming so much warmer. In the distance, sirens sound as the crime life begins to pick up under the cover of nighttime and the rain.

A figure seemingly streaks across rooftops in the distance, but Kyle dismisses it as his imagination.

“Take care of yourself, I might not always be there to save you,” Jason chimes, tone sarcastic, though his amused eyes give away his true intentions. Kyle stares up at him for a moment, gently shaking his head to break the trance he’d fallen into.

Right. Jason had to go home.

“I will! Thank you, Jay!” Kyle makes sure to pour as much of his inner turmoil into the few, timid words as he can, coupling them with a bright smile.

“Maybe I’ll see you around, kid.”

* * *

Jason shows up the next day, sporting all kinds of cuts and bruises. Kyle had been heading towards the park, bounding down the front stairs and nearly passing by the older boy in his excitement of having free time.

“Hey, Scrawny.”

Kyle yelps, stumbles, and nearly trips in surprise. Jason watches, thoroughly amused, as his new friend rights himself and turns in his direction, the warm smile slipping off his face as he takes in Jason’s injured state.

“Gosh, Jay, what happened? You were fine last night.” Panic overtakes Kyle’s senses, because some of the cuts look to be too deep to be left untreated. Jason just shrugs, a strained smile on his face as he leans against the lamppost.

“Took care of Rodney for you this morning,” Jason explains, voice light. Almost too light, but it wasn’t something Kyle caught in that moment. “They won’t be bothering you anymore.”

“Rodney and his friends did that to you?” Kyle gapes, unable to stop himself from reaching out and lightly touching a hand-shaped bruise around Jason’s throat. The boy flinches away from the soft touch, a dark look flickering across his face before vanishing completely. “Wait. Are you…”

“Drop it, Kyle,” Jason snarls, pulling away and beginning to walk down the street, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

Kyle has no illusions about his age; he knows he is young. But he is also what Ma Gunn liked to all an old soul trapped in a young body. 

He can see through the lie; that handprint is too big to belong to Rodney.

“It wasn’t Rodney, was it?” He calls after Jason, but Jason just keeps walking without even turning to glance back.

Kyle stands there, staring off into the distance for a long time.

 

* * *

Jason comes back a week later, a book in his hands and one of his eyes blackened. 

Kyle had been sitting on the steps with his paint supplies, the ones his mother had gotten him mere months before her death. Nobody else is outside, so when Kyle jumps to his feet and his paint supplies scatter to the ground, they’re in no danger of being stepped on. 

Not that he cares, not when Jason looks like a walking corpse.

“Jason!” Kyle’s hands cover his mouth, shock overriding his senses. Jason gives him a tired smile before sitting down on the stairs, shoulders hunching inwards. “Jason, you’re scaring me. Where did you…?”

“My dad got out of prison last week,” Jason’s voice cracks on the word ‘dad’, his head bowing even further. It was all the explanation he offers, and Kyle is not naïve; he thinks back to the handprints—

A stifled sob interrupts his thoughts. Kyle’s eyes began to tear up too, body immobilized by his friend’s pain. Jason, one of the strongest people Kyle knows, is sobbing on the stairs of his house and he has no clue how to make it better. 

It begins to rain, Gotham shedding tears for her heir, and Kyle shuffles closer, barely registering Jason pulling him into a hug, tears wetting Kyle’s shoulder.

They stay like that for a few hours.

Just two lost boys and Gotham’s tears for her beloved child.

* * *

Kyle’s on his way home from school when he sees Jason. The older boy is smiling for the first time in weeks. It’s a welcome sight, and Kyle bounds over and throws himself into his friend’s arms. 

“Geez, Kyle, you’re not too scrawny anymore, huh?” Jason laughs, holding him close for a moment before setting him back down on the ground. Kyle gleefully notes the fact that Jason wasn’t limping this time. “How was school?” 

“Good! Math sucks, I like art class better,” Kyle scrunches up his nose at the thought of addition and subtraction. He can’t fathom why it would ever be important to know how many apples Emily has left after she shares with Nia. Or why Prairie would need to know how long the trip would take, if you took out the pre-party. Colours were so much easier to understand. “Anything new with you?”

“My dad’s gone,” Jason admits, voice hushed as if admitting some great secret. Kyle’s heart swells at the relief in his friend’s voice, feeling a weight lifting from his shoulders. “He just…took off one night. I dunno how me and my mom are gonna get by, but I’ll…I’ll think of something. It doesn’t matter. I’m…I’m safe from him, Kyle.”

They spend the rest of the day at the park, talking about everything from books to cars, just as they did the first day they had met. They take turns on the swing set, they race around the park, they run up and down the streets laughing uproariously.

It’s a good day.

* * *

It’s raining again, and Kyle rushes home through the cold wetness. He nearly slips, but manages to right himself, continuing up the road towards the foster care house. He hopes his artwork isn’t soaked, even though he can tell his backpack was damp. Maybe— 

He sees the figure standing in front of the house, head tilted towards the skies and hands hanging limply and his sides. _Jason_.

Kyle opens his mouth to shout a greeting, but the call tapers out into nothingness. Deep in his gut, he can tell something is wrong. Jason’s hurting. Badly.

“Jay?” He murmurs softly as he approaches, slowly, as if his friend is a wounded animal in need of treatment that which he did not want to accept. “Are…are you okay?”

“She’s gone.”

Jason’s voice is hollowed out and raw. It doesn’t take long for Kyle to realize who Jason was talking about, and his mouth opens on its own accord. Despite everything, Jason loved his mom; Kyle, however, resented the woman. Crime Alley is a hard life, but for Jason to have to fight for scraps and money…Jason deserves better than that. Kyle knows how smart and determined Jason is, but being born in the dirty streets of Gotham is a curse.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” Kyle whispers, moving closer and reaching out to grab Jason’s hand. The rain grows in fury as it pelts down on them, but both boys are numb to it. Jason squeezes Kyle’s fingers, a sign of gratitude, but says nothing for a few minutes.

They stand in silence, Kyle mourning the remaining shred of his friend’s innocence and Jason trying his best not to cry.

“I need to go,” Jason murmurs, gently pulling his hand free. Kyle misses the contact immediately, but is wise enough not to reach out again. Jason was in a perilous place, was teetering on the edge of something dangerous. “I need to find somewhere to sleep for the night.”

“You could stay here—”

“No! You know how Gunn is, kid. I’m not gonna even consider getting you into trouble. I can manage, no worries,” Jason is firm in his conviction, and Kyle is scared. For him, for the child with a soldier’s heart, who deserved to spread his wings and fly.

He doesn’t voice his concerns. “Will you still come to see me?” He asks instead, sounding timid and worried and everything he shouldn’t. Jason gives him a hesitant smile, reaching out to grab Kyle’s shoulder.

“Of course, Scrawny.”

Kyle stands and watches Jason Todd disappear into the darkness.

* * *

The next time Kyle sees Jason, the seasons have changed and the sun is shining brightly for once.

Jason’s lost weight, has a new look in his eyes that has Kyle flinching away involuntarily. This isn’t the same Jason who talked about cars and books with a bright smile and shining eyes. This is a Jason who has been suffering for weeks and weeks, who’s had to fight tooth and nail to survive. 

This is not Kyle’s Jason.

“Hey, kid,” he starts, sounding tired and angry. Kyle wonders if Jason’s beginning to think of his visits as a chore. “Sorry I disappeared.” 

“It’s okay, Jay,” Kyle tries to sound reassuring, he does, but he’s sure it comes out reproachful instead. “How are you?”

Jason shrugs, not meeting his eyes but instead looking off into the distance. “Same old. Car parts sell well, when you can get your hands on them.”

“Car p…Jason, that’s _illegal_!” 

“Well sometimes you gotta do shit to survive, alright kid?” Jason spits back, patience seemingly worn thin long before he’d started the trek to the foster home. “I’m trying…I’m trying my best.”

Kyle falters, a burst of sympathy exploding in his chest. This was his friend, living on the streets with no one to protect him. The least Kyle could do was be supportive, no matter what he really thought of his friend’s actions. Survival means dirty things. Survival comes with a price. “I know you are, Jay! I know and I love you for it.”

They pause. That was the first time either of them had ever brought up the all-encompassing term, but Kyle means it. He means every word. 

Jason Todd is his best friend and Kyle loves him for it. 

Jason melts, the anger and bitterness dissipating to make way for tenderness. This side of Jason…he doesn’t show it often. Down in the underside of Gotham, showing vulnerability can easily get you killed.

“Love you too, Kyle. Thanks…for being there. All this time.”

“You’re welcome,” Kyle smiles. Some part of him always knew it, but to hear Jason verbally confirm his love…Kyle knows he matters to him now. A petty reassurance, perhaps, but it does wonders. “Just…stay safe, ‘kay?”

Jason agrees, and after a quick hug, he departs, citing territorial issues as his reason to bolt. Kyle watches him go, a smile on his face and heart lighter than it had been in weeks.

If only he had known.

Kyle Rayner doesn’t see Jason Todd again for a very, very long time, because that night, Jason gets caught stealing the tires off the Batmobile by the Batman himself.

And two nights later, Kyle is shuffled off to a foster home on the other side of the city; a day later, he is adopted into a nice family looking for a nice son.

 

* * *

“What do you mean there’s no one there? I know he was at Ma Gunn’s!” Tears of frustration build, fists clenched and stance defensive. Jason glares down his new father, dressed in the sacred colours of Robin. Bruce sighs, rubbing his eyes.

“Ma Gunn’s was shut down two nights ago, Jay. I promise I looked into their paperwork, but there’s no record of a Kyle Rayner at Ma Gunn’s home. I…without paperwork, there’s nothing to track, chum.”

“Nothing to track?! You’re _Batman_!”

“Jason…there’s a good chance he’s been adopted. He could be happy, I promise to keep looking, but if there was never any paperwork in the first place…it will be hard.”

Unbelievable. Tears beginning streaking down his face, because Jason is powerless; Kyle was lost to him. Kyle, whom he had sworn to protect, was nowhere to be found. How is he supposed to live with himself if something happens to Kyle? Kyle Rayner is his best friend and Jason loves him for it; he always will.

But he prayed to every God in the sky that Kyle could do this, could live, without him.


	2. a friend lost

Kyle’s 15 and strolling down the street, his backpack on and eyes on the road in front of him. It is dark, and late, and he’s cursing himself for losing track of time. Mrs. Conrad lets him stay at the library for as long as he wants, even going as far as to give him a set of keys. But keys or no keys, it ends with situations like this; him alone on the streets of Gotham, late at night. Not the ideal situation for someone his size.

And, of course, that’s when someone shoves him to the ground from behind. With a cuss, he hits the ground, scraping his palms and his knees in the process. The sketchbook he had tucked underneath his arm skids across the ground, loose sheets of paper spilling across the street.

“Well, well, well, lookie here boys! We got ourselves a little artist wannabe! Don’t you know that those creative fucks don’t make no money, boy?” A leering voice cuts through his dismay, sparking a fresh load of panic in his chest. He can fight, _will_ fight, but it sounds like there’s more than one person.

“I don’t have money,” he cautions as he pulls himself off the ground and turns to face the small group of men. They’re all dressed in dark colours, and all wielding some type of knife, sending Kyle’s stomach fluttering.

_This is bad._

“Naw, boy, if we were here for money, we would’ve picked some other chump.” The blonde, who appears to be the leader of the bunch, grins down at him. “We’re here to send a message to Batman!”

Confusion breaks through his fear, and his brows furrow despite everything. Batman? The urban legend? Guy who dressed up like a giant furry to fight crime?

“How is hurting me going to get to Batman?”

“You look like his brat. Robin.”

And it clicks. The dark hair. The small frame. These idiots are going to kill him as a message to Batman and oh god he’s _screwed_.

“Look, man, I don’t think that’s going to work,” Kyle tries to reason, beginning to back up. This is…this is serious. These men aren’t playground bullies, or kids hanging around the darkest corners of the city; they’re grown men who want him dead.

“Don’t take it personally, kid. It ain’t your fault the old man got involved in our business—”

Many things happen at the same time.

A flying body comes hurling from the skies, slamming into the blonde man’s torso and sending both sprawling to the ground. The other thugs jump into action, but before they can grab the assailant, a dark figure twice their size emerges from the alleyway and knocks one of the three men out.

Batman and Robin.

 _Oh_.

Kyle watches in awe as Robin singlehandedly deals with the ringleader, incapacitating him with a few well-placed kicks and punches. He’s saying something, angrily, but Kyle can’t hear him over the rush of blood in his ears. The ringleader locks eyes with Kyle, but before he can say or do anything, Robin decks him.

The man falls to the ground, unconscious.

And there is something startlingly familiar about the movement, the fluidity of the punch. Kyle takes in the dark hair, the height, the protectiveness. Memories flit through his mind, of a shark-like grin and a walk through the rain.

But it can’t be, because that would mean so many things, so many complications that Kyle shouldn’t even dream about—

Then Robin slips up, a mistake Kyle would remember until his dying days. It’s a falter in step, a soft whisper in the middle of a dead street on that fateful day in March.

“Kyle?” Jason Todd whispers, dressed up in reds and greens and yellows.

“Robin,” Batman cuts into the conversation sharply. Before Kyle can respond to his old friend, the man kneels in front of Kyle and gently takes his injured hands into his much larger gloves.

“I’m sorry,” Batman murmurs, reaching into his pouch to pull out what looked to be rubbing alcohol. Kyle’s too busy staring at Robin to register the sting of the medicine, or the soothing touch of the bandages appeasing the stinging of both his hands and his knees. “They came for you to get to me.”

“I’m okay,” Kyle finds himself saying, eyes still on Robin as a smile begins to spread. A smile so wide it hurt, one that Robin returns with equal vigour. “Robin saved the day.”

Batman, wisely, doesn’t mention his own involvement; instead, he stands and looks back at Robin. An unspoken message goes between the two, before the man moves through the street, picking up the loose sheets of paper and gathering everything Kyle had dropped.

And Jason leaps forward to hug his long-time friend.

“Are you safe? I tried to find you after I was adopted, but Ma Gunn’s place shut down and we couldn’t track you…” Jason trails off, voice laden with guilt.

“I was adopted,” Kyle informs him, a joyous smile dancing on his lips. The fact that Jason looked for him sends a burst of joy into his heart, lighting his soul up with sunshine. “I’m…happy, Jay. Marion and Louis are really nice! But I’m just…really glad to see you again.”

“I wish I had time to tell you everything that happened but I gotta go, Scrawny,” Jason murmurs, pulling back and gazing down at his friend. “Just…I’ll always be here to protect you, ‘kay? Oh! And I…I read all the books you told me about. They were _amazing_.”

“I’m glad. I’ll bring you more soon!” Kyle promises, warmth filling his bones. Somehow, he had forgotten how much he loved Jason, how much he had missed his companionship. But no more; Jason nods eagerly, before hugging him again and waving as he races off in the direction of Batman.

“I’ll see you soon, Kyle! Remember what I said; I’ll always keep you safe, ‘kay?”

Kyle believes him, with his whole heart. His best friend had become Robin…and he will protect them. Just like all those years ago in that dirty alley when Kyle was being chased by bullies, and now, tonight, with the thugs who wished him harm. He has the protection of a boy destined for greatness. The protection of a _hero_.

That is the last time Kyle Rayner feels fear.

But there is tragedy brewing, because life is never happy, especially in Gotham, and her children rarely found peace. The superhero community turns inside out, and Batman’s life becomes a shredded mess of resentment and self-hatred. A burial, a forgotten friendship, and a cold body laid to rest underneath the ground.

This is the year that Jason Todd dies.

* * *

It’s a cold, rainy day when Kyle finds out.

He manages to build up the courage to approach Wayne Manor, some part of him deeply unsettled. He knows Jason is busy, but…he has a bad feeling, and he needs to know if it was misplaced.

He knocks, and waits patiently. The rain picks up in speed, pelting the cobblestone pathway with a scary intensity. He tucks the books he’s holding under his arm, mindful of the rain.

An old man opens the door.

“Ah…Master Rayner. We were wondering when you would come by,” he speaks, and sounds weary and beaten. Kyle’s heart picks up, suspends itself, but he is still able to give the man—butler?—a timid smile.

“Oh, hello…I was wondering if Jason was home?”

_Such sad eyes._

Gotham mourns.

“Perhaps…perhaps you should step inside, young sir.”

Kyle does, and only a few minutes later his entire world shatters.

* * *

It’s dark.

He pounds the lid, screams wordlessly. For Bruce, for Batman, for _anyone_ to come and save him.

But no one is coming.

He begins to dig, begins to crawl, choke, suffer. There’s rain, and dirt, and broken fingernails. Finally, _finally_ , air fills his lungs, and he almost cries in relief.

He staggers, and stumbles, and finds his way onto gravel; a road, slick with hours’ worth of rain. Bright lights, deafening noise. Names fly through his mind.

Bruce.

Alfred.

 _Kyle_.

A second later, it all goes blank.

* * *

Kyle’s 21 and staggering outside of his regular bar, sober enough to get his bearings straight but drunk enough to be sluggish.

It is here that a blue, floating… _man_ finds him, offers him a glowing green ring, offers him a new beginning.

“Kyle Rayner, you have the ability to overcome great fear. Welcome to the Green Lantern Corps.”

He thinks of a night long ago, of a boy dressed in the colours of hope, and his heart clenches.

Tucking the memory away, Kyle gives himself to the stars, to the worlds beyond his own.

* * *

Jason breaks the surface of the pool with a strangled cry of ‘Bruce!’ dying on his lips, the iridescent liquid still pouring off him in thin rivulets. Beyond the layers of rocks stood a dark-skinned woman—Talia—eyes bright and smile sorrowful. Bruce, Jason thinks once more, pleadingly, as he struggles to regain his senses.

Then there’s another name, a life’s worth of affection wrapped around it, tucked deep into the recesses of his heart for safekeeping.

 _Kyle_.

And even when the burning resentment for his once-father begins to fuel him with all his strength, Kyle remains in his heart as a purity, safe from his hatred.

Jason realizes with sorrow that there was no place for someone like Kyle in his newfound life of vendettas and revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update! I hope it was worth the wait :-)

**Author's Note:**

> Annndd it begins! The fic'll be separated into 3 'eras' of sorts, and this is the first! Next up will be the Robin years and...a little bit beyond, I guess ;-) A HUGE thank you to my momther Em for editing the hell out of this mess annnd a ta-da to Jules; here's my part of the bargain! 
> 
> I'd love to read any comments/predictions you guys have :-) Comment with any scenes you'd also like to see (I have the fic planned out in its entirety but I can throw in any plausible scenes you guys wanna see!)


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